cold and dark and red
by medusamary
Summary: "Shut up and take your damn robe off," Jack growled.
this is for an au which i might actually write someday where jack is with pitch from the start and they're pretty much trying to all out kill the other guardians. cross posted to ao3. **warning for blood.**

* * *

"So, you finally did it, I see," Jack's voice echoed through the dark room, which only seemed to lose more light the further Pitch strode towards him. Jack detested that presence - the foreboding, dominant aura that very much outweighed his own. No matter how much he believed he had the advantage, the strong impression the other gave off was a constant reminder that, in fact, Pitch could easily rule over him and anyone else.

On a smug afterthought, Jack added, "Or at least, tried to."

Scoffing, the Nightmare King spoke: "Like you could've done any better. At least I managed to stab the arrogant one." The footsteps, which had been slowly increasing in volume, stopped behind the chair Jack was lazing on. He tilted his head back to meet his eyes and deliver a scathing retort, yet his vocal cords froze upon what he saw. Pitch, golden eyes alight with the post-murder thrill, covered in blood. Noting the splatters across his face, Jack let his icy blue eyes lock with the other's for a tension-filled ten seconds, before allowing his gaze to roam down. Blood soaked through his robe and allowed the outlines of his muscles to stand out. The bottom of the garment clung to his toned legs, and along any areas that were not covered by clothes, blood was smeared in long lines; he had purposefully spread the liquid along his skin, and by the irritating smirk on his face, he had known Jack would approve.

"Like what you see?" Pitch's smug voice rang out, ending the silence. The amused look adorning his face only grew when ice began to tinge Jack's cheeks. He could almost hear the battle going on under that mass of white hair - that is, whether to agree with Pitch, or to refute what he said with all his might. Eventually, both sides came to a draw.

"Shut up and take your damn robe off," Jack growled, though the increasing layer of frost on his cheeks betrayed his dominant act. Whether Jack was truly a person to make such demands or not, Pitch was only too happy to comply. Slowly peeling off the wet garment, he held it out to the side and let it drop to the floor. The muscles that had before been previewed by the wet shirt were now fully visible. Jack's eyes glazed over slightly as he drank in the sight, however he was interrupted from his thoughts when the taller man cleared his throat. Jack expectantly yet impatiently returned his gaze to his face.

"Now you have to take yours off too. It's only fair."

"No, what the hell? I'm supposed to be the one making the demands here," he spluttered. Pitch shot him a shit-eating grin.

"Oh, really? When did we decide that?"

"Shut up!" Jack shouted indignantly (and frankly rather childishly, but he would never admit that even to save his life). He didn't understand how Pitch could not have known this already; Jack was the one in charge; he commanded Pitch and Pitch obeyed without question. This is how it had been the last few times they had done this - why was he only disobeying now?

After the silence dragged out between the two and the tension grew to a suffocating level, Jack finally snapped.

"Fine!" He set to work pulling off his hoodie and moving onto the buttoned shirt underneath, hands fumbling as he fought to think and move properly through the embarrassment. He poured all his focus into the task of removing his shirt, he actually jumped when a breathy voice spoke into his ear.

"Need some help?"

He felt hands smooth over his neck until two arms were draped over his shoulders. Those hands then roamed down his front until they reached his torso, where his fingers had stilled in the process of undoing the buttons. He allowed them to reach up and feel the muscles of the other arms while they took over with his shirt. He felt a niggling tug in the back of his head telling him that this was humiliating, and that their roles should be switched, however he couldn't help but get lost in the feeling of Pitch's breath on the shell of his ear and the smooth movement of the strong limbs wrapped around him.

As the arms dragged back up his torso and pulled away, he felt a wetness where the arms had dragged. Glancing down, his face somehow began to colour even more as he noticed the streaks of red left on his bare skin. The shapes left the illusion of hand-prints dragging along his front, reaching from the elastic of his trousers to the nape of his neck.

A shadow towered over his body; he glanced up, only to look away again as the powerful, hypnotising eyes bore into his own. An evil, conspiring grin reigned over Pitch's face as he moved closer to the winter spirit in front of him.

An anticipatory shudder wracked through Jack's entire being as the other came closer until his face was just centimetres away from touching his. Leaning in so that their lips were almost brushing, but not quite, he breathily uttered one phrase:

"Tonight, you can be my master."

And with that, he closed the gap, leaving Jack to moan into the rough open mouthed kiss. Pitch situated himself on Jack's lap without breaking the contact, which then allowed him to wrap his arms around the back of the spirit's neck, pulling their bodies so closely together that the shared body heat could have melted them both. Jack moaned yet again as Pitch bit on his lip; however, that was just the start.

Pitch smirked on Jack's mouth, making sure he felt the smugness, before trailing his lips down to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind. Jack felt heat pool to his cheeks and lower abdomen as Pitch began to suck on his sensitive skin. He let out a wanton cry as the taller man bit down hard - he swore he felt blood draw as his teeth sunk in on his flesh. Pitch pulled up and began licking the wound, slowly and heavily moving his tongue across, bright gold mischief filled eyes darting up every so often to get a look at the flushed face above them.

Another flood of arrogance filled Pitch as he noticed the dishevelled state of Jack; it was clear by the heavy breathing the other was emitting that Pitch already had the upper hand here. A conspiring grin took over his face. He moved his head down and was grateful for the fact that he had removed Jack's shirt beforehand - this would be a lot easier now.

He took one of his nipples in his teeth.

"A-ah, Pitch!"

Being encouraged by Jack's reaction, he licked the pink bud, receiving a gasp in return. He sucked on it as a hand came up to play with the other neglected one, twisting it and tugging at it until Jack's gasps became loud cries. He scraped his teeth across it, grinning as Jack's breath hitched, and brought his head back up. The blood that had been left in lines up Jack's body had decorated Pitch's mouth a wonderful red, only adding to the allure of his image. Reshuffling himself on his lap so that their bodies were pushed up against each other, he began kissing and licking all around Jack's chin and neck, spreading the vital fluid around his skin and sharing the taste with the winter sprite. Bringing the bottom of his ear into his mouth, he pulled on it with his teeth as he began to slowly yet surely move his hips against the other's. Jack whimpered and bucked up into the movement, but Pitch held him down. Releasing the earlobe, he roamed his hands up and down the other's body as he brought his head to hover directly next to his ear.

"What do you want?" he asked in a rough whisper that sent chills racing down Jack's spine.

"Fu- aah - fuck you, I-I'm supposed to be asking you that," a quivering voice responded. There was an obvious intent to sound assertive, but the sensations of what Pitch was doing were too much for him to concentrate on making his voice sound anywhere near as strict as usual.

"Tsk, tsk, Jackie. I won't do it unless you ask properly," he shot back, giving a faux disapproving look to Jack. When the younger man looked like he wasn't going to say anything else, Pitch ground down especially hard, eliciting a breathy moan and hands clawing into his back. Once recovered, the man in question growled, glaring at him, before somehow turning even more flushed and answering in a quiet, perhaps almost embarrassed voice.

"Just fuck me already," he mumbled angrily, his head turned away, causing him to miss the growing devious grin on Pitch's face.

"As you wish, Master."


End file.
